Shine Not Burn(36)

My first goal was to work up enough nerve to ask some of the most ridiculous questions I’d ever asked in my life. Here’s how I pictured that conversation going:

Me: Do you know Gavin MacKenzie?

Country person: Who’s askin’?

Me: His wife.

Country person: — vacant look—crickets—

There was no way I was going to be able to track him down without a story. I needed a good story that wouldn’t humiliate both of us. A nice fat lie. I picked up a sugar packet and emptied it into my cup as I thought about my options. I’ll say I’m a lawyer and I’m tracking him down for an inheritance. I frowned at my coffee cup, picking up the teaspoon to stir in the sugar. No, that won’t work. They’ll want to know relatives’ names and I don’t have anything like that with me. I stirred and stirred and stirred. I’ll say he’s won some money in a contest. No, that’s stupid. What am I … Publisher’s Clearing House? I shook my head, grabbing more sugar. I ripped the packet open sloppily, spraying small white crystals all over the counter. I’ll say that I’m a relative from another city and I’m tracing my genealogy.

“How’re you doing over here?” asked a woman’s voice. My waitress was staring at me from behind the counter, waiting for my response.

The words came flying out before I could stop them. “I’m looking for Gavin MacKenzie, do you know him?” Oh, shit. Did she say how are you doing or what are you doing? My skin flamed up a burning crimson, and I had to restrain myself from fanning my face with the napkin. I could not believe I just blurted that out. What happened to my kickass plan to play it cool? Argh, I totally hate myself sometimes.

“Of course I know Mack. Everyone knows Mack. But no one calls him Gavin except his mother and his grandmother.” She smiled, the happy emotion not quite making it to her doe-brown eyes. Her name tag said Hannah. She was cute, even though her blonde hair was a little too brassy and her skin a little too heavily made-up. I guessed her to be a couple inches taller than me and about the same age, maybe a couple years older. The only thing keeping her from being a totally cliché diner waitress was bubblegum-smacking. She reminded me of a country version of Candice. My heart pulled uncomfortably at the thought of my friend. It had been way too long since we’d spoken. I blamed it on work, but Ruby blamed that Bradley.

“Can you tell me where to find…Mack?” I asked.

“Who are you, and what do you want to find him for?” She stood there with the coffee pot in her hand, her hip cocked, fully prepared to remain there until I confessed.

My ears burned with the shame of the coming deception. “I’m …uh… Andie. And I’m looking for him so I can put together my genealogy chart.”

“What’s that? Like a school project or somethin’?”

“Yeah,” I said, a lie sparking up in my mind and quickly turning into a roaring wildfire of bullshit. “I’m taking this special college course and we’re learning how to put together our family tree and stuff and his family …the MacKenzie’s… they’re in my tree. I think. The MacKenzies of Baker City to be exact.”

A gravelly voice came from behind me, making my hair stand on end with fear.

“Luceo non uro!”

I spun on my stool. “Wha…!” I banged my coffee on the way around and sloshed it all over my hand and the counter, but I didn’t bother with cleaning it up because I was too busy worrying that I was about to be eaten by a giant man-bear-pig.

“Luceo non uro!” he yelled again and then laughed. His mouth was completely covered by a gnarly, unkempt beard. I caught glimpses of teeth and tongue which made me feel just a tad bit safer. The idea of a toothless man-bear-pig somehow scared me more than one with proper dental care. I was obviously not functioning with all my brain cells online.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” said the waitress, snorting a little.

My voice finally started working again when I realized he wasn’t about to attack or eat me. He was just standing there looking down at me from very high up and speaking Latin. There was a slight chance he was even smiling, but it was impossible to tell with the brown shag carpet he was wearing as face decoration.

I cleared my throat, giving it a little jump start. “I’m sorry, but what did you say?”

His voice came out gentle then, and smooth. He could have been a book narrator when he wasn’t growling at women in diners. “Luceo non uro. It’s the MacKenzie clan motto.”

“MacKenzie clan?”

He cocked his head. “You know what a clan is, right?”

I gave him my best you-must-be-kidding look to cover up for my ignorance. “Of course I do. Don’t be ridiculous. I’m doing a project.”

“So I heard you say. What school are you attending? It sounds like a very interesting project.” His tone suddenly went from man-bear-pig to cultured academic.

I decided it was a distinct possibility that I’d either fallen into the same rabbit hole as Alice or been slipped something illegal on the flight over. “Just a community college. In Florida where I live. It’s pretty small, I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

“Could be I haven’t … could be I have, though,” he said, putting his hands behind him and rocking a little on his heels, waiting expectantly. “Won’t know until I hear the name.”